When You're Gone
by AokazuSei
Summary: When the one you love dies, what can you do? This Spainard know's how it feels to lose an Italian, or maybe he think he does. Warning: AU and Gender Bends of Italy and Romano!


Author's note: This is my first fanfiction, it's actually my essay but I thought that since it had Hetalia in it then it would be fine. The quote's fromBagofBones by Stephen King. Enjoy.

"On a very hot day in August of 1994, my wife told me she was going down to the Derry Rite Aid to pick up a refill on her sinus medicine prescription- this is stuff you can buy over the counter these days, I believe. I'd finished my writing for the day and offered to pick it up for her. She said thanks, but she wanted to get a piece of fish at the supermarket next door anyway; two birds with one stone and all of that. She blew a kiss at me off the palm of her hand and went out. The next time I saw her, she was on TV. That's how you identify the dead here in Derry- no walking down a subterranean corridor with green tiles on the walls and long fluorescent bars overheard, no naked body rolling out of a chilly drawer on casters; you just go into an office marked PRIVATE and look at a TV screen and say yep or nope."

Leaving the room, I continue seeing flashes of burnt and bloody tissue. Her body was so badly burned that identification was impossible, until they showed me our ring. Thoroughly inspecting the green leafed ring, I rubbed my fingers against the bloody surface and looked inside its golden band. There, shown our engraved initials which we carved the day we got married. There was no doubt that my wife had died, yet it was hard to accept since she was so strong and stubborn.

The doctors explained that a group of people were in the middle of the collision course of two trucks and as a result those who couldn't avert the conflict were killed, including my wife. They gave her ring back; the pristine beauty was now tainted and stained with her blood.

After leaving the office, I was thrown into a severe state of depression. The heterochromatic world became colorless and anticlimactic. I saw the sun less and less as my depression worsened. The macrocosm world I used to live in was now deduced to my bedroom and the living room. I lived in my own microcosm as I locked everything out and kept myself in.

To masticate my food became more of a chore and I began eating less and not as often than mandatory. I was sleep deprived, dreaming of her several times, and stayed up crying because she wasn't here. I stopped writing in my anthology and refused to complete almost every activity that required any exertion.

I spent my time lying either in our bed or in the living room couch with a blank stare, recalling her dominant green eyes, her dark wavy brown hair and that curl that always defied gravity. I reminisced everyday moments where she'd speak scathing words to hide her embarrassment, and her blushes which I would compare to a tomato. We both known each other a long time which came to a very good rapport as I understood her scolding was just a way to hide her embarrassment. She was only nineteen when she died; no one should die so young. Thinking about her always made me sob uncontrollably as I hid myself in remorse.

The days that passed soon turned to weeks and I soon became very ill. My dark tan became a sickly pale color, my weight had regressed dramatically and my eyes became red and black due to my crying and insomnia.

At some point of my confinement, my family came and pleads to me see them, desperate for a response since I've been reticent for the past weeks. However, I refused to react and stayed in my bedroom, either out of depression or infirmity. Eventually the knocking died down, and I was again left in solitary.

A few months of her death, I was at the zenith of my depression and decided to commit suicide. Walking up the stairs into the bath room, I filled my tub with hot gushing water. In my pocket, a knife bounced back and forth as I walked. Looking in the water, my reflection revealed how sickly I looked. Taking out my knife I pressed it against my skin, but not hard enough to cut it. Hesitating, I thought, _This__isn__'__t__right.__Doing__this__is__wrong.__She__wouldn__'__t__want__this.__But__… __How__can__I__live__without__her?_My desire and morals created a dilemma, but only stalled my previous decision.

Hands trembling, heart beating fast, I cut through the fragile skin. Blood soon materialized as I threw the knife aside and stepped into the water, plunging half my body into the hot liquid. My eyes began to feel heavy the water immediately turned crimson. Feeling more fatigued than usual, I closed my eyes, gladly greeting the darkness, while muffled cries and screams pierced through the door.

"Toni! Antonio! Open up right now before I break down this un-awesome door!" shouted my friend, Gilbert. Gilbert suffers from severe albinism, giving him pale white skin and hair and red iris. He usually refers himself as "the awesome me" and mainly uses the word "awesome" to describe himself and his bird, Gilbird, which he named after himself.

"Mon ami (My friend), please come out! Feli and everyone else are worried about your health!" shouted my other friend, Francis. Francis is French and frequently speaks about l' amour (love).

A muffled scream and the slight sound of a person bawling were heard; interrupting the inaudible cursing Feli cried, "Please Antonio! Lovi wouldn't want you like this!" Feliciana was Lovina's younger twin sister and my sister-in-law.

Silence rung through the house, and after a few minutes of being unresponsive, the screaming continued.

"Scheiße (sh*t)," Gilbert cursed, "That's it I'm knocking down the door! Stand back Feli! Toni you better not be in the way!"

After a few vicious stomps, I heard the door capitulate. Footsteps could be heard as they shuffled into each room, searching. My name was being called several times, but I was too tired to respond. Footsteps desperately climb up the stairs, and a door is open. Someone's crying but I was too tired to open my eyes.

"Antonio!" cried Feli as she dashed towards the tub. Grabbing onto my hand, she screamed, "Ludwig! Gilbert! Antonio's in the bathroom! Hurry! He's bleeding a lot!"

"Mein gott (My god)! Antonio what the hell did you do?" screamed a furious Gilbert as he rushed to the tub. I could feel hands pulling me out of the water and laid me on the cold tiled floor. "Someone call the ambulance! Elizabeta! Roderich! Get something to stop the bleeding! Hurry!"

Footsteps made the floor vibrate as they ran in different directions. Everything was beginning to becoming colder despite it being April.

"Verdammt (damn), it's going to be ok Toni, just hang in there!" shouted Gilbert, but his voice sounded so distant.

"Please, please don't die Antonio!" cried Feli, the tears she shed fell on my torso as she gripped my right hand tightly. Everything started to become silent, until I hear someone screech at me.

"Cazzo (f***)! Don't you dare die on me, you damn tomato b******!" my mind instantly reacts to the voice as I open my eyes.

"Lovi?" I shout despite being weak from the blood loss. Turning my head I see Lovi, gripping my left hand. Tears soon blurred my vision as I try to reach my hand to caress the illusion.

"Lovi, I'm so sorry. Lo siento (sorry)," I whisper my apology as everything turned black and I fell into unconsciousness.

Epilogue

A slight breeze past through my ear as I continue to be unresponsive. The faint touch of fingertips was gently tracing my face. The calm silent breathing was relaxing and I was close to fall asleep again until a heard someone speak.

"Why won't you wake up, you tomato b******," whispered Lovi, hinting a bit of sadness, "Do you really not want to see me that much?"

My eyes opened and automatically searched for those green eyes in the white room. With tears in her eyes, as launched herself onto me in a tight embrace. "You f***ing idiot! I thought you were going to die!"

"Lovi? Are you really Lovi?" I asked. The answer was obvious but I was still in shock. _How__can__my__wife__that__'__s__supposed__to__be__dead,__be__here?_I hesitantly push her aside, looking down in guilt. Her surprised is quickly covered by anger.

"Why the hell did you do that b******?" she screeched, obviously hurt for what I did. She was already in tears, and was very close to crying.

"Lo siento (sorry), Lovi, but you're supposed to be dead," I quietly murmured. Shocked passed her eyes but were again hardened as she look down and a trail of tears falling to her lap. I was about to apologize when the door opened and Gilbert came bursting in.

"That's so un-awesome of you Antonio! Making your wife cry," he smirked as a crowd of my friends came in. Feli, smiling like she usually does, starts skipping into the room with Ludwig.

"Antonio you're awake now!" squealed a delighted Feli, as she bounced to my bed, "Did you know that when sorella (sister) woke up from her coma, and heard that you were sick, she visited you every day?"

"Coma?" I asked genuinely confused. Lovi was supposed to be dead; her ring was enough proof to convince me that she died. "But didn't Lovi die in a car crash?"

"Si (yes), but Lovi didn't die, she was just badly hurt so she went into a coma for a few months," giggled Feli, excited that her sister didn't die. "When she got all better she visited us. Then we told her you thought that she was dead so we came to your house and-"

Feli's story was interrupted as Ludwig covered her mouth with his hand. The room became silent as they waited for my reaction. My shock was soon filled with guilt as I plainly state, "Oh… I'm sorry Lovi, I didn't know. Do you forgive me?"

"… Yeah," she replied as she closed in for another hug. "Ti amo idiota (idiot)…."

Leaning forward I whisper in her ear, "Te amo mi tomatita (I love you my tomatita)."


End file.
